


The Bridge

by PerfectStorm



Category: Rookie Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, American Sign Language, Anxiety, Army, Canada, Deaf Character, Hostage Situations, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, Multi, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Police, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Secret Relationship, Sleepwalking, Trauma, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-17 20:52:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2322821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerfectStorm/pseuds/PerfectStorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 15th Division tries to continue on after an incident on a bridge traumatizes them...and new relationships spark as the officers realize who they really need to get them through the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Incoming

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first piece, so I'd love if you'd leave feedback for me! Enjoy!
> 
> (Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with the Rookie Blue television show, and I am not making money off of this story.)

“Look at them in their little uniforms with their little bags and their little hands,” Andy said in disdain, glancing to the side to see Chris’s face, a mixture of equal disdain and humor.

“Maybe they won’t be so bad,” he said hopefully, crossing his arms and squeezing them against his chest in a way that let Andy know that he was just as stressed as she was. The new rookies had just arrived, which meant that each of the older officers had to take on extra paperwork, and as they stared at the crowd of gangly, nervous barely-legal twenty-somethings, they knew that today was going to be a long day.

“Hey, McNally, what are you just standing around for? There was a 9-1-1 call four minutes ago that sounded urgent!” Oliver yelled as he stuck his head out of his office, his face red with anger.

“Of course, of course...sir.” Pulling her hair back into a tight ponytail, she walked over to the assignment board to see who she was with today.

“Looks like you and I are partners, partner!” Chloe’s cheerful voice made Andy groan inwardly, but she put on a brave face and turned around to see Chloe bouncing up to her. The young woman, Dov’s future wife, had actual flower petals in her hair. Fucking petals.

“Did you get in a fight with a bouquet, pipsqueak?” Gail came into the room and lifted a straw to her lips to blow the wrapper into Chloe’s face. Chloe’s smile dropped a bit and she caught the wrapper easily, throwing it into the nearest garbage can.  
“I did some gardening before work, that’s all,” she whispered, her lips quivering. Andy started to apologize for Gail, but Chloe had already left the room to get the squad car keys.

“You really shouldn’t bully her like that,” Andy said, turning on Gail, who was standing by the sink as she filled her coffee mug with tap water. She considered Andy’s words silently for a moment and then shrugged.

“She really shouldn’t annoy me every morning with her pep and her...vigor? Is that even a word? Sounds like vinegar.” Gail went back to her desk and Andy found Chloe waiting in the passenger side of squad car #3. They drove to the 9-1-1 call with their sirens on, and when they arrived at a small, one-story green house with a front lawn full of crabgrass, there was already a woman standing out on the porch yelling. She gripped the ends of her sleeves and leaned forward with the force of her voice as she screamed, “-you, because the cops are here, and they’ll make you!"  
She turned to Andy and Chloe with wild eyes, and started down the steps to meet them.

“What seems to be the problem, ma’am? We were called on the account of a domestic disturbance?” Andy’s voice was unsure; something felt strange about the situation. The person inside the house wasn’t screaming back at the woman like most people would in an argument.

“Yes, yes, well, my son Brandon seems to have found my husband’s gun in the closet, and he’s trying to shoot my husband. In the house. In the living room,” she explained, and finally, she seemed to realize the extremity of the situation. She started back towards the house in a rush but Chloe grabbed her arm.

“No, you need to stay out here. I can take your statement, ma’am. Andy,” Chloe nodded towards the house, authority suddenly lacing her voice, even though she was younger and newer than Andy, “call for backup.”

Andy did just that, pulling her talkie off of her uniform and pressing the button on the top before saying, “Dispatch, we need backup at 201 East Gloria Street. Possible hostage situation, a child has seized a weapon.”

“McNally, on our way,” the dispatch woman’s voice responded. Andy put her talkie back on her uniform and pulled out her weapon, holding it down towards the ground as she walked up to the house. She knocked on the screen door loudly, and then lifted her weapon out in front of her.

“My name is Officer McNally and I am entering the house. Please place the weapon on the ground and place your hands behind your head, Brandon.”

She knew that it wouldn’t work (it rarely did), but she had to try because it was protocol. Andy opened the screen door with her right hand, the one not holding the gun, and stepped inside, bringing her other hand back to steady the weapon. She hated going into a situations like this one, where she didn’t know exactly where people were in the house or what they looked like, what weapon they had, those kinds of really important things that could potentially save her life.

She walked through the foyer, blankets and towels covering the floor, and peaked around the corner, her gun out in front of her. The first thing she saw was an older man tied to a chair with barbed wire in the center of the room, struggling to free himself and groaning from the pain of the wires stabbing into his chest and upper arms. Standing in front of him was a large teenager, a handgun hung by his side as he whispered angrily at his stepfather.

“-and no more fucking my mom while I’m in the next room, forced to listen,” he finished.

“Brandon, put the gun down and put your hands on your head,” Andy ordered as she walked into the room, her gun pointed directly at the boy’s heart. She was an excellent shot. The only time she missed her target was when she wasn’t aiming for the kill. But Brandon instantly went pale and lifted the gun, aiming it at her face. Andy’s panic level shot way up, because the kid seemed to know how to use the gun he held, but Andy didn’t let her fear show. She couldn’t, not in this kind of situation.

“Listen, you don’t want to do this. I’m a police officer. I’m wearing a kevlar vest. The only thing that will happen if you shoot me is that my partner will come inside, and you’ll be arrested and charged for attempted murder and assault of an officer, in addition to the kidnapping and assault charges you’ve already chalked up. Now, if you put the gun down, I can talk to my sergeant about getting you put up in a juvenile detention center instead of prison, but you have to put your weapon down,” Andy explained quietly and calmly, trying not to spook him. His eyes, just as wild as his mother’s had been, looked at his stepfather and said, “I’m not putting down the gun until he’s dead.”

“Andy, how you doing in there?” Sergeant Oliver Shaw’s calm, trained voice said, and he came into the house, walking up beside Andy. He didn’t draw his weapon, because he was there to calm the boy down, but Andy knew from training that he probably had two officers with guns at the ready in the other room. Andy didn’t risk a glance at Oliver; her arms were starting to hurt from holding the gun up, and the boy seemed to get more agitated when Oliver entered.

“Hello, Brandon. What seems to be the problem?” Oliver asked, as if he was Brandon’s personal therapist.

“He’s fucking my mom! That’s the problem!” the boy screamed, and Andy visibly flinched back, because Brandon’s trigger finger had twitched slightly. Oliver’s gaze on Andy steadied her, and she knew that she couldn’t act like a scared chihuahua if they wanted to get anywhere with this kid.

Brandon moved his gun slowly from pointing at Andy to pointing at his stepfather, and he inched closer until the tip of his gun was touching the man’s forehead.

“You can’t stop me,” he murmured, fire blazing in his eyes as he looked down at his step-dad, who was squirming in his chair but, thankfully, not saying anything to make the situation worse.

“Brandon, listen to me. I understand how you feel. My dad died when I was very young, and I had two stepdads during the course of my childhood. And every time I saw them, I wanted to punch their lights out, but I didn’t. I didn’t because I knew that I was so close to eighteen that I’d be moving out soon anyway. And I wanted my mom to be happy. And if my stepdads made her happy, then who was I to try and break them up? How old are you, Brandon? Are you going to college next year?” Oliver asked.

“I’m nineteen. I’m going to CTU next fall,” he said quietly. Brandon’s step-dad snorted and said, “Not after this, you’re not.”

“You shut your mouth!” Brandon yelled, pushing his gun into the man’s forehead, his fingers tightening on the weapon. So Andy did the one thing she had learned in the Academy that worked every single time in a situation like this. She let out a high-pitched, piercing scream and averted her attention towards something behind Brandon, pointing her gun at it too. Brandon started to turn around to look at what was behind him, and as he turned, his gun slipped off of his stepdad’s forehead.

Oliver’s gun was out before Andy even saw him move, and he shot Brandon’s hands, causing him to shout in pain and drop his gun. Oliver lunged and tackled the boy to the ground as Andy kicked the fallen gun out of Brandon’s reach. Oliver handcuffed him and dragged him to his feet roughly. The blood from the boy’s mangled hands was dripping down onto the handcuffs, but Oliver wasn’t gentle taking the boy outside to his squad car. Andy went over to the step-dad, put on the pair of garden gloves on the table that Brandon had worn, and started unwrapping the barbed wire from around him.

Andy drove back to the station with a silent and very pale Chloe while Oliver drove Brandon to the hospital to get his fingers reattached. Brandon’s parents were riding with their son. Back at the station, Andy and Chloe were greeted by a smiling Chris Diaz, oblivious to their pain.

“Good work, guys,” he said, leaning in to hug them both. Though Andy loved it when Chris was chipper and happy, she was feeling queasy, and she wanted to take a shower. She allowed Chris to hug her and then disappeared into the women’s locker room.

“Today really freaked her out. And me too. It was just like we were back on that bridge,” Chloe told Chris as they watched Andy walk around the corner.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, we’re coping. Have you seen my fiance?” Chloe asked, looking around the station for Dov Epstein.

“He was in the lounge last time I saw him,” Chris responded, and Chloe left to find him. She didn’t find him in the break room, or his office, and she gave up after twenty minutes, deciding that he must have already gone home.

Andy stood underneath the spray of water in the shower, her forehead pressed against the tile wall, as she tried to control her shaking. It had been a month since the incident on the bridge but she still felt as though it were yesterday. The shower water was burning her skin but she didn’t care; she needed a painful distraction from her memories.

There was a loud noise in the locker room, and she jumped, her feet slipping on the slick floor. She caught herself on the disabled railing before she hit the ground, and then shakily lifted herself back up.

“Andy? You in here?” Collins’s voice echoes throughout the locker room, and she breathed out a sigh of relief. Collins had been in the army for over five years. If anyone understood her panic and anxiety after a traumatic event, it would be him.

“I’m in the shower,” she called out, and Collins came into the bathroom, sitting on a plastic chair outside her stall. He had been on desk duty all day today, so he had handled most of the paperwork for the new rookies. His stress was eating away at him; he needed to exercise, or lift weights, or do something with his body that didn’t involve sitting.

“I heard about today. You alright?” he asked through the stall door. Andy took a deep breath before talking, just to make sure her voice was steady when she answered, “I could be better.”  
“Can I take you out for a drink? It’s been a long day.”

“I think a run would be better for my nerves.” She knew just what Collins needed, and she heard his thankful sigh of relief.

“Yes, please,” he practically moaned. Andy turned off the water and wrapped herself in a towel, stepping into the bathroom. Collins kept his eyes down on the floor as she walked into the main part of the locker room to get dressed. Everyone else had already left after the long day, and no one would walk into the locker room and see Andy naked. She put on a sports bra and a pair of sweatpants, and when she looked at Collins, he was already dressed for a run. They put their bags in Andy’s car and started their run from the station, planning to run until they felt better or their legs gave out. 

Chloe was just crawling into bed with Dov, who was already passed out with a book clutched in his hands, when the doorbell rang. She checked the clock; it was past midnight, which could only mean that the person at the door was one of her friends who had gotten drunk, or there was an emergency at the station.

She pulled on a bathrobe and went to answer the door, her bare feet padding across the wood floors softly. It was Andy and Nick at the door, both drunk, both in their sweaty running clothes.

“We left our bags in my car back at the station and just ran here,” Andy explained, her eyes bright with runner’s high and probably tequila, Chloe guessed.

“That’s almost twenty miles!” she exclaimed, and Andy pushed her way past Chloe, too drunk to be polite, and Collins followed behind her, shooting her an apologetic look.

He and Andy dropped down into chairs at the kitchen table and Chloe slipped easily into the role of caretaker. She had three much younger sisters and eccentric drunks for parents, so she knew how to handle Andy and Nick.

She handed out water bottles and aspirin, and then she helped Andy stumble into her bedroom. Collins’s bedroom was across the hall from hers in their shared house, and since he was a little less drunk than Andy, he put himself to bed.

Chloe didn’t have time to help Andy shower or change before she had passed out, so she simply laid Andy on her bed and went back to Dov.

 

In the morning, the gaggle of officers who lived together arrived at the station to find Oliver in a particularly bad mood. Andy and Collins wore sunglasses to shield their hungover eyes from the harsh lights, but Oliver pointed them out right away at parade and said, “You too are on desk today.”

“No, Oliver, please, I’m fine,” Andy groaned.

“Sir, I’d be happy to take desk duty today,” Chris said quickly, jumping to formalities so that Oliver would say yes. Which he promptly did.

“Okay, then, if Collins and Diaz are on desk, that means...Epstein and Peck, you’re riding together today. Chloe, you’re giving the rookies the grand tour.”

“What?!” Gail Peck demanded before anyone else could. Chloe was floored, and blushed deeply as Peck got out of her seat.

“I’m not so sure I’m ready, Oliver,” Chloe choked. She was the same age as the rookies, and she hated teaching; most people were annoyed by her positive attitude and peppiness, and she didn’t want to train people who would think she was annoying.

“Oliver, I’ve been preparing for months to train those rookies. I’ve read up on all of them, just like you said. I know all their names, their hometowns, even their fucking birthdays…” Peck argued.

“It’s not happening. You’re riding with Epstein today. Case closed. Subject dropped. Now, get a move on. Today’s not going to be fun for any of you,” Oliver said, and then he went up to his office and slammed the door. Dov wasn’t excited to be out on patrol either, because it was raining heavily outside, and with rain came lots of accidents.

Collins and Diaz sat down at their desks right across from each other, and while Diaz immediately pulled up his work on the computer, Collins raked a hand through his hair and stood up to make himself a cup of coffee. It was almost ten o’clock in the morning when he got back to his desk, green-faced and clutching his mug like his life depended on it, and Chris watched as he collapsed down in his swivel chair.

“Rough night?” he asked Collins, turning back to his computer. Collins took a long slurp of his coffee and said, “Yeah, Andy and I went out drinking after our run. The bartender said we could have one free shot for every dart we could hit on target...turns out, Andy and I have pretty good aim.”

“Ah.”

Collins receded back to his coffee mug while Chris worked, and when the mug was empty, he got to his feet for another. The color in his face had returned, and he could take off his glasses without searing his eyeballs, but Chris was still worried about him.

“Let me walk you over,” he offered, taking Collins’s elbow and leading him to the break room. They sat down on the couch side by side, and Chris wrung his hands in his lap as Collins drank his second cup.

“You seem nervous,” Collins joked, elbowing Diaz in the arm, and he managed a terse smile.

“I am nervous.”

Christ was as honest as he was loyal, but sometimes, he wished he was more like Collins: brave, strong, and overprotective of everyone he liked.

“Don’t be nervous. You don’t have to feel nervous around me.” Collins set his mug down on the table and got up to close the blinds of the window into the break room. He locked the door too and then sat back down with Diaz, closer than he had been before.

“I know...you just make me feel…” Collins didn’t let him finish, instead leaning forward to press his lips lightly against Chris’s. Nick’s hand rested lightly on his knee, and he squeezed as Chris leaned further into the kiss.

“Hey, why is this door locked?” A high-pitched female voice asked outside the door, knocking her fist on the wood. Chris shot straight into the air in a panic like a cartoon character, but Nick grabbed his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“Relax. No one is going to find out. Just...go over to the fridge and pretend like you’re looking for a snack,” Collins ordered, and Chris walked over to do as he was told. Collins unlocked the door and Chloe came in with a group of rookies trailing behind her, looking uncomfortable in their surroundings.

“Sorry, must have locked by accident,” Nick told Chloe, and she smiled at him knowingly, giving him a small wink.

“Mhm, sure,” she responded, beckoning the rest of the rookies inside. Diaz came out of the fridge with a cup of yogurt and then quickly left the room, embarrassment and shame written clearly across his face. Nick planned to change that.


	2. Amanda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A girl is kidnapped, and Chris realizes that something is wrong with Gail...very wrong.

Andy’s screams pierced the night like a frozen knife and tore Collins out of a very pleasant dream, a rarity for him, and though Andy woke up everyone in the house, Nick got to her room first. He always slept right on the edge of alertness because when he was in the army, he always had to be ready for a fight. His first night in Afghanistan, he hadn’t quite believed the other men when they told him that sometimes, they’d wake up from a light sleep and their camp would be on fire and they were under attack and they had to be ready to fight. But the second night, Nick’s friend Private Williams was dragged from his bed, raped in the field behind the camp by a group of Afghan war criminals, and brutally murdered. From then on, Collins slept with a knife under his pillow and a gun under his mattress.

“Andy? Andy!” Nick yelled, grabbing her shoulders roughly as she thrashed around on the bed, tangling herself up in the covers. Her eyes were squeezed shut tightly and Collins shook her upper body until her head started flopping forward and she relaxed, falling back asleep. Collins saw calmness and peace cross over her face, and he let her sag back onto the bed, not reading too much into the fact that his own hands were shaking.

“Nick, what happened?” Dov demanded, running up beside him, his gun out protectively in front of him. His disheveled hair was flopped over to one side of his head, and Collins thought it made Dov look ten years younger than he really was; the rings under his eyes, however, counteracted that. Chloe and Chris joined them in Andy’s bedroom, and Chloe had her gun out too.

“She was just having a nightmare. She’s fine now,” Nick explained. Chloe lowered her gun right away but Dov hesitated, looking at Collins’ hands.

“Come on, Dov, let’s go back to bed,” Chloe murmured, the energy and adrenaline drained out of her, and she dragged Dov out of the room. Nick stood at the edge of the bed with a pained expression, and Chris said gently, “I’d like to to stay with her tonight, in case she has another nightmare.”

Of course. Nick knew that no amount of arguing would make Chris go back to bed.

“I’ll stay too, then,” Collins said. Chris smiled sheepishly, his tired, doughy eyes making him look like a pale, oversized puppy.  
Collins brought in the desk chair from the other room and sat down next to Andy’s bed while Chris laid down on the couch, curling up his arms under his head.

“Are you okay?” Chris asked, watching Nick’s face as he stared at Andy, as if any inattention he paid her would be met with more horrific screaming and nightmares. His face was smooth and calm, but Chris recognized the dulled pain in his eyes.

“I didn’t realize she still had nightmares,” Nick whispered, reaching over to pull the covers up to Andy’s chin. She sighed in her sleep and a smile danced at the corner of her lips.

“It’s only been a month.”

“Mine have stopped.”

Chris made a small noise in the back of his throat and Nick dragged his eyes away from Andy to look at him incredulously. 

“I live in the room right next to yours, Nick. I hear you at night.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be listening,” Collins suggested.

“I can’t help it. I don’t sleep well when I know my friends are in pain.”

Again, Chris’s unyielding and shameless honesty caught Nick off guard, and he broke Chris’s gaze.

“You should go back to bed now. Andy’s not in pain anymore. Neither am I.”

“I can sleep here.” Chris closed his eyes and scooted down lower on the couch until his head rested on the pillow at the end, and Nick waited until his breathing was slow and steady to let himself drift off too.

Nick felt a hard thump against his head and a familiar voice asked, “Why are you laying on my floor, Nicky?”  
He reached up to protect his head from another blow by way of Andy’s shoe, and she laughed, reaching down to help him to his feet. He had fallen out of his chair the night before and had decided to stay there, not having the energy to get back up at two in the morning. Nick looked around the room when he was on his feet but Chris was gone, probably back in his own bed or already at work. Nick had no gauge of time, because Andy’s sleep-walking caused her to wake up sometimes and change the times on the clock in her room, and the times he saw in her room were very rarely correct.

“Come on, you’re going to be late,” Andy snapped, pushing Nick towards the door so she could get dressed herself. 

He let Andy drive him to the station that morning instead of driving his own car, not because he had gotten drunk like the other times she drove him, but because the bump on his temple from falling out of the chair made his head feel like it was splitting in half.

They sat beside each other at parade and Andy gave him some pills to swallow down with his coffee. 

“Did Andy land one on you last night?” Chris asked Nick, taking a seat beside him and leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. He started to reach out to touch Nick’s forehead but Nick slapped his hand away, glancing around the room. No one had seen it, but Chris knew that he had slipped; he became flushed and got up unsteadily, leaving the room as quickly as he could. The new rookies were standing at the back of the room in a tight group like a pack of lost puppies, murmuring to one another.

“Hello officers, detectives, newbies...Collins, what happened to your face?” Oliver demanded at the front of the room, setting the folder in his hands down to fold his arms. His eyes told Collins that his excuse for the injury better not involve booze.

“Uh, it was a wall, sir. I walked into a wall.”

Oliver snorted in disbelief but didn’t press the issue.

“Alright, there won’t be anyone on desk duty today, at least no one that matters. Newbies, you’re going to be handling incoming calls in the office. Next week we can start the real training for you, but today, we have a kidnapping case,” Oliver explained.

He turned around and plastered the pictures of a young girl on the board: school, yearbook, and family photos.

“This is Amanda Reages. She is fifteen years old, lives in Marlberg, and was last seen sneaking down to the parking garage of her apartment complex at 11:35 last night while her parents were asleep. At first, it looked like she was leaving willingly, but if you see here…” Oliver took a small remote out of his pocket and pointed it towards the ancient television mounted on the side wall. A security video showed Amanda in her pajamas going out to the garage to meet an idling black van, but when she opened the door to get in, a terrified look crossed her face and she started to back away. An hand reached out to grab her by the front of her shirt and dragged her into the car, slamming the door when all of her limbs were inside.

“Obviously, the windows were tinted, and the license plate was covered with black tape, so right now, the only lead we have is this…” Oliver switched to another video on the TV, and it showed the same black car at a stoplight. Amanda had her hand out the window and she molded her hand into several different shapes before the window started to roll up, and then she yanked her hand back into the car.

“Was that sign language, sir?” Dov asked.

“Yes. Fingerspelling, to be exact. Our own officer Gail Peck speaks sign language, and has informed us that she spelled the word ‘journey’. We don’t know what it means yet, but her parents are in Interview Room 2, and we’re planning to find out. Peck, since you’re the only one here who speaks sign language, you’re going to lead the interview. The interpreter is on her way, but I’m sure you can manage without her for now. Diaz, you’re doing the interview with Peck.”

Oliver set the remote down on the table and receded to his office; the rookies stared after him with looks of horror on their faces, uncalibrated to his strange belligerence. Peck snapped her fingers at Diaz and they walked down to the interview room together. Before they went inside, Gail grabbed Chris’s shoulder and whispered, “I saw the parents when Oliver brought them in. They looked guilty as hell. So let me do the talking, and you just watch them for anything suspicious.”

Gail pushed her way through the door and Chris followed her inside. They sat down in front of the anxious parents and Gail started talking, signing at the same time.

“I’m Officer Peck, and this is Officer Diaz. We’re the leading officers on your daughter’s case. We’re going to do our best to find her. Can you tell us about the past week? Did Amanda seem different than usual?”

Mrs. Wendy Reages made a disgusted, annoyed noise and threw her hands up in the air while her husband bowed his head. The guilt was practically dripping down his face like sweat or tears, and Chris spotted it instantly.

“She was perfectly normal! And if you and the rest of your goons keep asking us the same damn questions, we’ll never find her! So why don’t you get off your asses and search for her? Or do you need a donut first?” Mrs. Reages signed. Chris didn’t understand what she had said, but Gail gripped the edge of the table, livid, and the skin of her knuckles stretched tightly over the bone.

“Maybe we could talk to them separately, Gail,” Chris said softly, tilting his head towards the father. Gail didn’t look at him and nodded when she saw his face. Chris’s voice seemed to bring Peck back to reality, the reality where a police officer wasn’t allowed to hit a victim’s mother. Gail let go of the table.

“Mrs. Reages, Chris will take you to the lounge for some coffee while I talk to your husband,” Gail explained. The woman huffed and got to her feet, slamming her hands down on the table.

“You better find my daughter, or else I’ll-”

“Shut your fucking mouth. I am doing the best I can at my job, but if you don’t watch yourself, you’re going to lose a few teeth,” Gail growled, standing up to get in the woman’s face, and her uncontrolled anger didn’t stop her from signing that to the woman. 

Mrs. Reages left the room, screaming garbled obscenities at Gail, but Chris didn’t follow her out quite yet.

“Gail, what’s wrong with you?” he whispered in her ear, blocking her from the man’s view so she could speak freely if she wanted to. Gail was enraged for a reason that Chris couldn’t see or understand, but he gripped her arm anyway and let her release a long, furious breath of air. She squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger as Mr. Reages watched in confusion. Peck’s long, wheat-colored hair was shaking like a thousand tiny snakes hanging from her scalp, and she growled, “I need to go home.” 

Her anger dissipating into a fragile panic, and she bolted from the room, leaving her interview questions on the table.

“Stay here,” Chris told Mr. Reages, and sprinted out of the room after Gail. She was already to the door of the station, and Chris watched her get into her car and then drive away.


	3. The Accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We take a look back at a time before the accident.

Six weeks earlier...

“Good morning, love.” Chloe leaned over and set a plate of eggs in front of Dov before dropping a quick kiss on his nose. He grabbed her face and held her to him, lengthening the kiss until Traci Nash came into the room. A white smile spread across her face at the image of Dov and Chloe so in love, but they pulled apart at her entrance.

“Oh, no, don’t mind me,” Traci said, chuckling as she went over to the fridge and leaned over to scan the rows of health food Andy bought for the house. She wouldn’t allow any junk or fried food anywhere in the vicinity, except for when Chris would occasionally bring home a box of organic doughnuts, and Andy would concede. “Only because you’re so goddamn adorable,” she’d tell Chris, ruffling his hair, and he’d grumble something about being older than her.

“I thought you were staying over at Steve’s last night,” Chloe said, and Traci plucked a container of yogurt from the fridge before settling down at the table with them. Chloe was sitting on Dov’s lap and had an arm over his shoulder absentmindedly as she waited for Traci’s response.

“Get this,” she said, sitting forward animatedly, “Steve wanted to spend some quality time with Leo, so they spent a boy’s night watching scary movies and eating candy. Steve sent me this picture.” Traci pulled her cell phone out and showed the picture them, and Chloe giggled like an eight-year-old.

“That’s so cute!” she squealed. It was a picture of Steve Peck, Traci’s boyfriend, with her son Leo, and Steve had taken a selfie of them stuffing their mouths full of marshmallows. The young boy was watching Steve and had a huge, toothy smile on his face.

“Precious,” Dov agreed mildly. At that time, Andy and Nick burst through the front door, panting from their run, holding onto each other so they both didn’t fall on the floor. Andy was laughing hysterically from something Nick had said outside, but she was struggling to catch her breath, as the people in the kitchen stared at them in surprise.

“We’re gonna...we’re gonna go...” Nick tried to speak steadily, but his face was spiked pink and he was dying of exertion. With weak, shaky knees, he dragged Andy from the room before their friends could watch them collapse from exhaustion. Instead, they settled for collapsing on the floor in the middle of the shared bathroom. Someone was in the shower, their quiet whistling just barely audible over the stream of water, and Nick would recognize that whistling anywhere: Chris. 

The whistling cut off and Chris’ wet, soapy head peaked around the corner of the shower curtain. His big brown eyes widened at seeing Andy and Nick on the floor, and he squeaked, several octaves above his normal voice, “Get out of here! I’m in the shower!”

“We’re gonna wait for you to be done down here, if that’s alright,” Andy responded weakly, her breath becoming more steady now that she wasn’t running. Collins still panted like he’d just run a marathon, but he’d been slower than Andy. He struggled to keep up with a woman who ran fifteen miles every day.

Chris groaned and pulled his head back into the shower.


End file.
